“The Bucket List” now outranks “When Harry Met Sally” and “Stand By Me” in Rob Reiner’s CV.
I also write SportsCentr and contribute to NBA Off-Season, 2010 FIFA World Cup, and The Fall Classic.
Email: mrseankeane (at) gmail (dot) com
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The Shirt Off Sean Keane's Back
“The Bucket List” now outranks “When Harry Met Sally” and “Stand By Me” in Rob Reiner’s CV.
Robyn and Kelis pose at the end of their show at Mezzanine. I was one of only fourteen heterosexual men at the show, and had a great time, while learning some important lessons about the quality of my milkshake.
My Australian friend Dan Ilic heard it was Australia Day on the CBS Early Morning Show, and he made a lot of signs. My favorite was, “Mel Gibson Born in the USA.” Not sure that backpacker stat is accurate.
If you have yet to read Esquire’s TV’s Crowning Moment of Awesome piece by Chris Jones, you need to get on that. It’s about how this guy (Terry Kniess) broke The Price is Right by guessing his Showcase Showdown bid perfectly. It’s got a few different layers to it, and some mystery/intrigue to boot.
Would love to see a film about this, if not, a made for tv movie. Read that shit, then watch (above) how Drew Carey grumbles over the win. It’s so great.
I’m glad there’s finally an explanation for why Drew Carey was such an asshole after this amazing moment. A choice quote from the Esquire piece:
“I thought, Fuck, they just fucking fucked us over. Somebody fucked us over. I remember asking, ‘Are we ever going to air this?’ And nobody could see how we could. So I thought the show was never going to air… I was like, Fuck this guy. When it came time to announce the winner, I thought, It’s not airing anyway. So fuck him.”
Attention, Los Angeles! I’ll be performing on The Tomorrow Show, tomorrow at midnight, at the Steve Allen Theater. You can check out Emily “Hellbone” Heller on the same lineup, along with Ron Lynch, Brendon Small, Craig Anton, comedy, songs, and madness! $8.
“Sean Keane: UC-Berkeley grad riffs on politics, sex and sports.”
Yeah, that basically sums it up.
When not entertaining America and the internet with hilariousness, I earn some scratch by working at a law office. Part of my responsibility is closing cases; taking old case files, boxing them up, and sending them to storage. After many complaints and at least two sit-down meetings, I have stopped shouting, “Case closed!” every time I put a folder into the box, though I mutter it under my breath. Every time.
When I close cases, I check to make sure the documents are all in order and that it’s actually done. I also rearrange everything so the papers face the same way and line up, not so much to preserve them in storage, but because I am mildly obsessive-compulsive. This is the point where I made an unusual discovery today, in the form of a letter written by an incarcerated client of ours. The letter was ordinary enough, but paper-clipped to the letter was a feather.
A feather! Somehow this guy serving 10-to-15 years in San Quentin had access to a really weird arts-and-crafts station. Or it’s like a Dumbo thing, and the feather will give his attorney the confidence to really BELIEVE he can overturn a felony conviction. Or he kept a bird, like Brooks from The Shawshank Redemption, and plucked it to really make his cursory thank-you letter stand out. I really hope he has a pet bird he’s concealing, and that it isn’t something like, the feather has been poisoned. Because I have been handling this feather a lot.
For this, the deadest of sports days, I present a clip of talking about attending baseball games in San Francisco and Oakland, and the profound differences you find there.
(From the Sacramento Punch Line, April 2010.)